Have the Right to Lose Control (I Can't Pretend)
by Alikrav
Summary: Amy lets her guard down, just for a moment. Karmy unrequited, Karmy friendship.


After weeks of checking every move, every glance, every word, every thought, of course it's "make-out practice" that finally trips Amy up.

It's a stupid idea, really. It's not like it's even necessary. There were so many traps and difficulties and obstacles with this whole "faking being your best friend's lesbian girlfriend while realizing you're a lesbian" thing (more than enough to fill the Judy Blume book on this topic that Amy would badly like to have for guidance), but the actual physics of the kissing were never a problem. The fact that kissing Karma feels way too natural and too good for Amy, the fact that she feels so turned on, the fact that she feels so guilty about kissing Karma when she's pretty sure she's in love with Karma and Karma just thinks they're making sure they don't get caught in their scheme, the fact that she _feels _so much when she kisses Karma… now those were problems, that was what she was trying to deal with 24/7, but spending _more_ time making out, and time making out alone in Karma's bedroom in the middle of their weekly "Yay it's Friday" Netflix marathon? Not really a solution for them.

But when Karma mentions that she thinks people are getting suspicious about the lack of PDA when cheering crowds aren't specifically demanding it, and they should try to get more comfortable with it, Amy just says "oh. Well, okay." Because Karma has a way of getting her way when it comes to Amy. And it's out of nowhere, Amy doesn't have time to prepare herself for it, to calculate her response, and when put on the spot she can't figure out how to say no without saying some things she isn't ready to say. So instead she gives herself a quick pep talk while Karma steps into the bathroom to "get ready," whatever the hell _that _means.

_It's gonna be fine, Amy. Just keep yourself in control. You've done a damn good job holding yourself together when you've been acting girlfriend-y in public, this is just another step up. You know how to do this. Pay attention, be deliberate in everything you do, don't react on impulse. Keep the starry-eyed look off your stupid face, push the weird thoughts back down when they come up, remember to breathe, and you'll be okay. _

After so long keeping the starry-eyed look off her stupid face and pushing the weird thoughts down when they come up and remembering to breath, through all the hand-holding and ridiculous capers and her mom crying and her staring at the stars on her ceiling at night wondering when her life got so fucking complicated and why she can't just be comfortable with the one person in the world she's always been comfortable with, after so long being so careful all the time, it takes maybe five minutes for Amy's fool-proof strategy to fall apart completely.

Karma's lips taste like the sour watermelon gloss that Amy mentioned she liked from their kiss at the assembly (_that's what she stopped to do, put that on for me, that's so sweet_), and she's running her fingers up and down the back of Amy's thin cotton tee in a way that would drive the straightest straight girl in Hetero City to distraction, and she smells like Herbal Essences and chai tea and the pizza they'd just been glomming down and _Karma _and she makes this little moaning sound that is _the sexiest thing that has ever happened_ and flutters her eyelashes against Amy's face and licks the roof of Amy's mouth and Amy just… can't… handle it. She shoves Karma off her lap and onto her back on the bed, and cuts off Karma's teasing "rowr!" and pounces on her.

For just a moment, Amy completely forgets everything. She forgets the stupid, fucked-up situation they're in and the stupid, fucked-up things Karma wants from the universe and her own stupid, fucked-up heart. She forgets all she's learned to do to keep her feelings hidden away, to maintain her self-control. She just lets her body do what it wants, lets it charge ahead.

Then the world catches up with her again, and it hits her like stepping out of a nice air conditioned building into a Texas summer day.

She's more or less molesting her best friend, who is _totally fucking straight_. Not that Karma seems to mind, but that's because Karma doesn't _know_.

She pulls herself up and rolls onto the other side of the bed and tries to catch her breath, collect herself, remind herself of the plan, assuming it's not already blown. It doesn't help her any that Karma's chest is heaving and she has that sexy little smirk on her face, and it's so hot and so uniquely Karma, and Amy's not even close to pulling herself together before she opens her eyes.

"Wow, that was… I've got to get Liam to do that."

And that was it. Game over. Karma might as well have punched her in the stomach without warning her first. Amy's been doing crunches, she would have recovered easier from that.

When Amy doesn't respond, Karma glances over at her, and she, well, notices.

"Ames, what's wrong? What are you…"

The thing about Karma is that while no one would know it by talking to her most days, she does get people. If she ever put some frickin' thought or effort into it, Amy knows, she could be really considerate, she really could. And she knows Amy better than anyone. She gets it, she sees everything the moment she really looks in Amy's eyes. She sees things that Amy wouldn't have said out loud to her at pain of death or extra gym class. And the way her eyes widen? That doesn't look like excited Karma. That's _scared_ Karma.

Fuck Texas summer heat. Amy couldn't have gotten off the bed faster if it had actually burst into flames. (If it had, she would have at least stopped to rescue Karma.)

"I'm sorry."

"Amy…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Amy, what are you doing?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Amy, stop."

"I just need my phone, I'm sorry."

"It's on the desk, could you just hang on for one second, please?"

"No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The only things she can think about as she sprints home are that she really hopes she got everything that spilled out of her backpack as she scrambled around, because anything she left she's never going to see again, and that this may be the first time that she's really grateful that Ms. Ashford is not the sort of parent who thinks twice about a disheveled, crying girl fleeing her daughter's bedroom.

XXX

She's had her face smushed into her pillow like McMurphy after the lobotomy for maybe an hour, listening to the loudest, angriest hip-hop on her "AMY'S LOUD ANGRY HIPHOP PLAYLIST" at a volume that she's sure she'll regret in her 70s, when her phone starts buzzing.

_Karma (10:08): hey_

_Karma (10:08): please talk 2 me_

Nope, she thinks to herself. This is definitely not "talk 2 Karma" time. This is "lock yourself in your room until the world more or less forgets your existence or at least until graduation" time.

_Karma (10:10): seriously_

_Karma (10:10): you have 2 talk 2 me_

_Karma (10:10): amy come on_

She hits a nice Jay Z stretch. This is a really top-notch playlist she made. Kind of too bad, since clearly she'll never be able to listen to it again without feeling like puking.

_Karma (10:18): amy_

_Karma (10:18): talk to me_

_Karma (10:18): i am on your front lawn_

_Karma (10:18): i am going to stay here until you either text back or come down here_

_Karma (10:18): i will make a scene_

_Karma (10:18): you fkn know I will_

_Karma (10:18): your mom and Christian Mingle and the step monster will ask questions_

_Not _fair, Amy thinks. _NOT FUCKING FAIR._ She kind of can't believe Karma's playing that card. If she wasn't so terrified, she'd be about as pissed at her as she's ever been.

But Amy has to hand it to Karma. That's about the only thing that would get her moving.

_Amy (10:19):_ _stop_

_Amy (10:19): im coming down_

_Amy (10:19): give me a minute_

**XXX**

She's not sure what good it's done for her looks to take a second and touch up, because from her last glance in the mirror it would still be obvious to someone who _hasn't_ been Amy's partner-in-crime since she was four that she's been crying. And since she's having trouble getting herself to open the door, she's not sure it's done much good for her sense of calm, either. She's trapped. She's completely fucking trapped, and this time Karma's done it on purpose.

Amy tries to take a deep breath and chokes on it.

_This will all be over soon,_ she tells herself. _At least you'll know. And at least you won't have to put so much work into holding it all in any more. _

_I am about to lose my best friend._

_I just had one bad moment._

**XXX**

Amy gestures for Karma to be quiet the second she steps outside, and nods for her to walk down the block a bit. It gives her a chance to notice that she isn't the only one who spent her evening with mascara running down her cheeks. Karma's still kind of sniffling. Amy doesn't know what to make of it, but she doesn't think they're "I'm so glad I'm not the only one" tears.

As soon as they get to the corner, Amy pushes her. Hard.

"Don't ever fucking do that."

"I'm sorry."

"No, _don't ever fucking do that._ This is not one of these things that's all about you, Karma. This is my life. You don't get to threaten me like that."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just really had to talk to you, I was scared, I shouldn't have, I know that's too much, I wouldn't have ever done that."

She's babbling. Karma doesn't babble.

"I'm just… I'm so sorry, Amy."

"Whatever. You didn't actually do anything."

"Not about that."

Amy swallows hard. "You don't have anything to apologize for."

"Yes, I do. I didn't know, okay? I really didn't, I didn't even have a clue. I should have. You're my best friend, and this was just awful. This was so mean. This whole thing… I never would have asked if I'd realized."

Karma is just weeping now. Amy's kind of glad. She'd feel even more pathetic than she already does if she were the only one in hysterics.

"I didn't know. I didn't know until I kissed you at that stupid assembly. I didn't ever think about it, so you don't have to be sorry, okay?"

"_Yes, I do._ You're my best friend."

Amy waits. There's a version of what happens next that she's dream of. The sort of dreams you wake up crying after because they're not real and you badly want them to be and they never will be. And she's pretty sure she's about to learn for sure that those dreams are never coming true. _I just had one bad moment._

"You are just… I should have known. We know everything about each other, and I should have known. You've had to do all this stupid fake girlfriend stuff, and you've had to go through all of this alone. You're my best friend. I should have been able to tell. I know I get stuck on things in my own head, and you don't, and you're just there for me… You had to do this alone, Amy, and that's not fair. It's not right. What's the point of having a best friend if she lets you down like that?"

"Karma, I didn't want you to know."

"You didn't want me to know about you 'accidentally' stealing my mom's tampons when we were 11, either, but I managed to figure that one out."

Amy wouldn't have thought it was possible, but she actually laughs a little. "Shut up. You didn't figure that out, you just were always looking in my drawers because you were a creepy little spy child."

Karma smiles too. "Still found out."

Amy isn't in the mood to get distracted with a trip down embarrassing memory lane. "This is a little different."

"Not to me, it's not."

"It is to me, Karma."

"Amy…"

"I'm… I'm a lesbian, Karms. A real one. A real, big, gay, lesbian. And I'm in…"

Amy can't finish her sentence. She can't say it out loud. She's such a fucking waste. Someone should come scrape her off the sidewalk and throw her in a barrel for the garbagemen to take in the morning.

"Amy… I know that changes things for you. But it doesn't make a difference to me."

She can't even look at Karma, so she's surprised for a second when her friend wraps her arms around her and puts her head on Amy's shoulder.

"Don't, Karm. I saw the look on your face. You know you're freaked out."

"It just caught me by surprise, Amy! I needed a second, just one second, to adjust, and I had it. It's done. It's done, and I just want to be here for you. You would never leave me alone with this, and I'm not going to leave you alone with it, either, okay? I don't know how to do this, other than to end this stupid fake relationship, but I want to help. I can, I don't know. I'll join PFLAG. We can go to clubs or meetings or whatever. I'll help you make a dating profile. I'll be the best wing-woman ever, you know I will be."

"It's not that easy," Amy says, softly.

"I know."

"This is a big deal. Just because it's not at Hester, doesn't mean it isn't for the real world. Or for my life."

"I know."

"And you can pretend you just needed a second to adjust all you want, but you can't just snap your fingers and make it all okay. It's complicated."

"I know."

"You… I don't know how to be around you feeling like this. I don't know how you can be around me."

"We'll figure it out."

"_Karma._"

"We'll figure it out! I don't think it'll be like learning to count to five or anything, but we'll figure it out."

Karma raises her head and looks Amy in the eye.

"Just because I don't feel that way doesn't mean I don't love you to death, Amy. Every part of you. I don't care if it's messy, I won't lose you. I can't. I mean, what's an Ethel without a Lucy?"

Amy can't even believe she's smiling. "You mean a Lucy without an Ethel."

"I mean… yeah, I do mean that."

Amy snorts. Karma keeps making her smile. Thirty minutes ago, she would have told you that she'd never smile again.

"It's not like no one's ever done this before, Amy. It's not 1960, there are, like, 900 million websites on what to do when your best friend comes out. Literally, 900 million, I googled it. I was reading some of them, they all basically say the same thing, but they're definitely there. I bet somewhere there's a Wikihow on how to deal with our exact situation."

"Really? Including the part where we're pretending to date?"

"Maybe not that. But everything else, you coming out, how you feel about me… _we'll figure it out._"

"And even if we do, I mean, what? My mom's barely speaking to me except to keep trying to tell me this is just teenage rebellion."

"I don't know, Amy. I mean, she's been like this with you before, she gets over it."

"Not like this. I've already got one parent who won't talk to me."

"Then she doesn't get over it. Then you come live with me, my mom and dad like you more than me anyways. You spend holidays with us when you come home from college, which is probably going to be more fun for you than Thanksgiving and Christmas with your mom and Christian Mingle and the step-monster and her new boyfriend from the Hamptons, Skip Longweather IV. Or you fight with her until she realizes it's the 21st century in Texas, too. I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise."

"_God. _You don't know that! You can't promise that, Karms!"

Karma gives Amy about the saddest smile she's ever seen on her best friend's face.

"I know. I can't. But I want to. Doesn't that count for something?"

Amy finally gives in and pulls Karma back into a hug.

"Wow, you know, we probably should go back to my house. People see us standing around on a street corner like this, they might think we're a couple of lesbians."

"KARMA!"

"Too soon?"

"TOO SOON."

"Okay. But let's go get your stuff, okay? We'll stuff our faces, we'll figure out how to stage an elaborate break-up, we'll talk, or we'll just watch crappy TV until our eyes bleed… whatever you want."

Amy pulls away and just looks at her. For the first time in weeks, she's just Karma again, I-know-I-screwed-up-and-I-really-want-to-make-it-up-to-you Karma (which is like, the rarest species of Karma) but still Karma. Not she-is-the-sun-and-if-I-stare-too-long-I'll-go-blind-get-a-hold-of-yourself Karma; not what-are-you-doing-you-freak-you-can't-undress-her-with-you-eyes-like-that-people-will-know-control-yourself Karma, not my-chest-hurts-because-I-am-so-freaking-in-love-with-you-and-you're-chattering-away-about-this-creepy-boy-okay-restrain-yourself Karma, but her best friend, the person in the world whose love she is surest about. The person she can say anything to because she doesn't have to be careful around her every second. Someone who she can _breathe_ around.

It won't last forever, she suspects. Karma has a piece of her heart that Amy doesn't know how to get back. And if there's one lesson she's learned for sure from their fake girlfriend debacle, it's that good intentions don't always do you much good. Karma means what she says, but she doesn't really know what she's saying. And the hard part of this – of being in love with a best friend who will never love you back, of having your mother honestly believe that you're going to go to hell, of living in a society that doesn't yet accept who you are – well, there's not much Karma's going to be able to do about that. That's on Amy.

But Amy is so tired of having to stay in control all the time. And she is so, so much happier knowing that Karma knows, knowing that Karma won't walk away, knowing that their little social experiment is almost over. She just wants to… be in that moment, without being checking herself. She knows she's got enough of that in her future.

"Fine. But I'm picking the snacks, and I control the remote, got it?"

Karma smiles.

"Fine."

They turn to head back to Amy's to leave a note that she'll be out late.

"So, could I ask you an insensitive question?"

"I mean, history says you're gonna anyways."

"Okay. Was the handbook, like, useful to you?"

Amy hasn't laughed this hard in days.

END NOTES:

_I'm not actually that happy with this, and I promise you I am firmly in favor of a Karmy endgame. I just really wanted to take a crack at a scene where Karma finds out, doesn't return Amy's feelings but loves the hell out of her anyways. Let me know what you think. I may do an epilogue where things develop further if people are interested._


End file.
